Short, concise, and businesslike.
They waste their lives
away.
Never voicing all the
things
they really need to say.
A tremble and a cry,
the sky responds to their
great feel
of misery. Extending their
vacation
cannot change the course
of human history.
The will to power rises
as the love
within their eyes begins
to fall.
The tallest buildings
melt into
the walls of their superiority.
Echoing, the cries of all
their
dying innocence, envelope
them in mists of growing
gray.
The sun can't shine through
all the pain and hopelessness
they feel.
And yet, to them, emotions
aren't real. They trained
their minds in military
fashion.
Straight and tall, they
never bend
within the stormy wall
of falling rain.
Projecting all their sins
unto
the ones that they think
weak.
Stealing ego's pride from
those
more humble and more meek.
Empowered by their bitterness,
they use the force of
shadows
hiding deep within their
souls
to conquer and to slowly
kill
the life of all that drifts
within
the depths of their unknowingness.
Manmade, the irony expands
deep into the hinterlands
of home.
Bells ringing in the background,
seeking imminence within
the great unknown. Subliminal,
the taste and texture
melt
into their lives.
Mesmerized, the lies will
settle in.
Sinking into cells of
flesh that
all their consciousness
is based upon.
As short, concise, and
businesslike,
they waste their lives
away.
Refusing still, to voice
the many
things they need to say...
? Michaelette ?
6/8/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home
. . .